by Kay L Moody
“Now?” the son asked. He gripped his wife around the waist with one hand and clutched his baby to his chest with the other. “Don’t we get to say goodbye to our friends?”
“No,” the judge said without a shred of sympathy.
“What about our things?” the wife asked. “We need the baby’s sleeping mat and her books.”
“Books?” The judge let out a laugh that shook through the courtyard. “Children in the Storm are not taught how to read. You’ll get none of your things. You’ll start life the same as everyone who has been sent to the Storm. With nothing but the clothes on your back.”
“Mama,” the eighteen-year-old girl called out. Her voice wobbled as reality seemed to hit like a brick on her vocal cords.
The wife began trembling. The son gripped his family more desperately, but he seemed to realize his grip wouldn’t save anyone from anything now.
As if sensing their fear, the baby let out cry. When his family only sobbed in response, the baby cried harder.
“Talise.”
Talise jumped at Marmie’s quiet voice. “It’s time for you to come in now.”
Marmie spoke in a whisper with her eyes on the family that was in the midst of falling apart. She tugged Talise by the elbow, not taking her eyes away from the courtyard until they stood in front of the building where the testing would occur.
Just when Marmie touched the door handle, she turned to Talise with misty eyes. Her mouth quivered, but Talise already knew what she was going to say.
“I know,” Talise said. She tried to set her jaw the way Marmie did when she had won an argument. It made Marmie look powerful. Talise needed some of that power now because Marmie’s unspoken words were just as heavy as the scene in the courtyard.
Unless she sought an early death, Talise had to get out of the Storm. Honor or not, the academy was her only chance.
THREE
THE ROOM SEEMED TOO HOT FOR THE spring air outside. Maybe it was nerves or maybe it was the little balls of fire that would erupt from a hand every few minutes.
A woman guard in a yellow silk tunic and black belt ushered Talise and Marmie into a corner of the testing room. She didn’t say it, but it seemed like the woman was trying to hide them.
Children about Talise’s age stood in different parts of the room. One girl wore an expression coursing with excitement. One boy kept tapping his feet together before he would grab his mother by the waist and give her the world’s shortest hug. But it would only be a moment before he did it again.
Another girl was showing off for some of the other children. She could shape two elements. All of them would be able to shape all four elements by the time they finished the first stage at the academy, but for now, shaping more than one element was impressive. The girl tucked her hair behind her ear before she moved a tiny pile of dirt and then blew off the top of it with air. The other children clapped in delight.
Scanning the room, Talise guessed she was one of the youngest children. She was only seven when most of them were probably eight. She was probably the thinnest too thanks to the Storm. If she weighed even a few pounds less, she would lose her ability to shape. She had lost it before.
Marmie went three weeks eating nothing but lemon water and breadcrumbs so Talise could have the extra food. Even when the shaping returned, Marmie took smaller portions so Talise could have more.
Another guard wearing yellow entered from the back room. He called a name from his leather-bound writing pad. Soon, a dark-haired child who looked a full year older than Talise bounded to the middle of the room. The child bowed to his elder.
The yellow-clad guard pointed to a pile of dirt. “If you can shape earth, please move the pile to the spot indicated.”
The dark-haired child shook his head and the guard made a note in his writing pad. Then he said, “If you can shape water, raise the water from this bowl and put it back again.”
The boy shook his head again and a note was made.
The guard pointed to the red and black brocade curtains on the window behind him. “If you can shape air, make these curtains dance.”
The boy nodded, and soon the curtains were fluttering with sharp bursts that indicated shaping.
The guard made another note in his writing pad before he said, “If you can shape fire, produce a small ball of fire above your palm.”
The boy shook his head, and the guard nodded as he made note in his pad. Then, the guard pointed to the back room. “Off you go. Say your goodbyes, and don’t forget your personal effects.”
The boy bounced over to his parents wearing a smile that must have hurt his cheeks. His parents clapped and gave him so many kisses, his cheeks were probably wet. They strapped a large sack on his back that looked almost as heavy as him.
Talise’s eyes slowly trailed over to the small tote bag she had brought. It only had two dresses, some toiletry items, and a tiny pouch of money. When she scanned the rest of the room, her tote bag looked even smaller.
Biting her bottom lip, Talise sidled up to Marmie and squeezed her hand. “I don’t want to go to the academy without you.”
“I know, love,” Marmie said with a gentle smile.
“Do I have to?”
Leaving no room for interpretation, Marmie said, “Yes dear, you have to.” Then she added with a bit more kindness. “All the other children will be away from their families too.”
“Where will you go?” Talise asked, bracing herself for the answer.
“I must go back to the Storm.”
Even though she’d been expecting this, the words still jarred on her insides. “How will you survive? Academy training lasts ten years.”
Marmie took her hand out of Talise’s grip and wrapped it around her shoulders instead. She began tracing swirls into Talise’s upper arm as she spoke. Her voice was even and sweet, telling the truth, but making it sound better than it was. “The first stage of training is only five years. You’ll have to test again after that to get into the second stage. And you’ll test again three years later. The third stage is only two years.”
Talise nodded, wishing the years could go by as quickly as this day seemed to be going.
Marmie continued. “A child of the Storm is never allowed to leave the Storm unless he or she becomes Master Shaper. Getting into the academy isn’t enough. At the end of each year, there’s a competition. Based on the demonstrations during the competition, Emperor Flarius chooses one Master Shaper from the graduating class to work with him in the palace. You must become Master Shaper or else you’ll have to go back to the Storm after your academy training.”
“I know all that,” Talise said jutting out her bottom lip. “I know what I have to do. But if I pass all the testing and make it through all three stages and win the competition and become Master Shaper…,” she bit her bottom lip again, looking up at Marmie, “will you be able to move to the palace with me?”
“You already know the answer to that,” Marmie said with the smallest wink.
Talise’s stomach sank all the way down to her toes. She did know that already. She’d asked these questions a hundred times in the last few months wishing there was any other way. It didn’t help her nerves at all.
Her entire future rested on the competition. How could she feel anything but anxiety skewering her muscles when so much depended on this?
Marmie met her eye and put two fingers under her chin. “You’re the best shaper here.” Then she shrugged with a tease. “Even if you weren’t, they aren’t testing how good you are at shaping. You only need to show that you can. Any child who can shape is welcome to the academy for the first stage of training.”
Again, she knew all that, but it helped to hear the words anyway. Talise tucked herself closer to Marmie’s side, wishing they had a little more time. Maybe just a few more days.
Mercifully, time went by slowly as the guards tested each new child, let them say goodbye, and then followed him or her into the back room to give more instructions about the
academy. Hours passed by while more children were tested.
The other children were getting antsy, but not Talise. She drank up every last minute she had. When she felt brave, she’d ask Marmie to tell her a story or recite one of their favorite memories. Marmie always complied with a gentle smile and a reassuring lilt to her voice.
But even as one of the more boring days of her life, time still marched on. Soon, Talise was the only child left in the room.
The older guard entered and glanced around. Not noticing Talise at first, he checked with the woman guard. They whispered together for a moment until the woman guard pointed to the back corner where Talise and Marmie sat. The air seemed to grow hotter and thicker. More anxiety trampled through Talise as she tried to hold her head high. She wanted to be brave for Marmie. She knew what she had to do.
The guard nodded and went to his usual place in the middle of the room where he called out her name, almost with a grimace.
Talise walked over, pinching folds of her dress between two fingers before releasing them again. She took a deep breath when she reached the center of the room. After a quick bow and a long gulp, she looked up at the guard.
He stared down at her, surveying every inch of her tattered clothes. His eyes landed heavily on the bright patch near her hem. He looked back at Marmie and scoffed loudly. Slamming his writing pad shut, he looked at the other guard. “Tell them we’re done here. They can take the children to the docks now.”
FOUR
TALISE TOOK A STEP BACK WHILE MARMIE took a step forward. Talise clutched at her dress. All of the softness in Marmie’s face hardened to jagged lines. Her cheekbones cut like knives. No more honey and sparkles. When Marmie spoke now, her voice was fire.
“She can shape. You are required to give her entrance to a training academy.”
“Don’t be stupid, vermin,” the guard said as he peered down at Marmie. “No one from the Storm can shape. How did you even get enough money for the riverboat? Did you sell your hair?
He and the other guard glanced at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter.
Marmie reached for the frizzy ends of her hair, all uneven and dull. At the last second, she turned her hand into a fist and set her jaw. “Test her,” Marmie said.
The guard began walking toward the back room, still letting out the whispers of a laugh.
Marmie stood in front of him leaving only a few inches between them. She crossed her arms over her chest and said more firmly, “Test her.”
“Get out of my way,” the guard said, brushing her to the side.
With such weak muscles inside her, Marmie staggered at the man’s touch. She gripped him by the forearm to catch her balance and tried to steady herself.
Talise wrung her hands all around each other as she watched the pair of them. Perhaps the guard only needed to see that she was capable of shaping. Maybe she should just show him what she could do. But she feared disrespecting her elder. He clearly had a prejudice that ran deep. Would shaping get them into more trouble?
When Marmie steadied herself, she said, “The girl can shape. You must test her.”
The guard moved to push her away again, but with greater force this time. To protect herself, Marmie grabbed his arm.
The guard ripped his arm from her grip. “You dare attack me?”
Even though it was clear an attack was far from her mind, Marmie narrowed her eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure this girl goes to the academy.”
The guard moved so swiftly, Talise didn’t realize he had Marmie by the wrist until he was already reaching for the wooden baton under his tunic. If Talise didn’t do something, Marmie would be beaten. Her frail body couldn’t handle a beating of any kind right now.
“Stop!” Talise shouted.
That only seemed to add fire to the guard’s flame. He pulled the baton out while a hint of glee passed over his features. If she was going to do anything, clearly words would not be enough.
She took one glance around the room and did the only thing that seemed logical in the moment. Many people considered fire to be the most difficult element to master, so she lit a fire in her palm.
Thinking only of Marmie’s safety, Talise took a fistful of the guard’s tunic. “Look,” she said as she forced him to turn around.
As his feet moved to face her, the tunic in her left hand collided with the flame in her right. Her eyebrows flew up her forehead as the silk fabric caught on fire. The guard let out a gasp that could have fluttered the curtains as much as air shaping.
Talise shaped away the fire in her palm instantly, but the damage had been done. The guard seemed too surprised, or angry, to react to his still burning tunic.
Though less than a second had passed, it felt like five hundred. Talise scanned the room, letting her mind whirl as it tried to find a way to fix this.
I’ll never go to the academy now, she thought. I won’t even go back to the Storm. They’re going to kill me here and Marmie too.
She looked at the curtains. She could pull them down and suffocate the fire. No, she’d never be strong enough to rip them away. Useless. Her tote bag of dresses was closer, but the fire might be out of control by the time she got a dress out of it. Also useless. The bowl of water for shape testing would work. Her foot had already taken a step before she realized that even that would take too much time. The bowl was on the other side of the room.
Without a single thought about the consequences, Talise used her shaping to raise the water out of the bowl and splash it onto the guard’s tunic. The fire was out, and it had only taken the longest three seconds of her life.
Before she could let out a breath of relief, the guard’s mouth dropped. It looked more like surprise than anger this time, but now she was all too aware of just how wet the guard’s clothes were.
The guard worked his jaw up and down as he looked from his shirt to the empty bowl and back to his shirt again. He touched the damp fabric as if daring it to be real.
But it was real. Talise’s stomach sank. She had to do something. “I can fix it,” she said. The words sounded so stupid as soon as they left her mouth. She turned her head to the ground, afraid to make eye contact. “Well, not fix it. At least not the fabric that got burnt. But I can help with the wet clothes at least.”
The guard took a step away from her, his eyes widening every second.
Undeterred, she raised her hands until the palms were an inch over the wet fabric. Then, she shaped as much air as she could to blow against the fabric. If only she were a little better at shaping, she could just shape the water out of his clothes and back into the bowl. Instead, the air shaping would have to do.
The guard took another step back and grabbed both of her wrists. He stared down into her palms with his mouth gaping open. “You … you can shape three elements? How is this possible?”
“Four,” Marmie said. Her breath was weak, but she was still on her feet.
The guard turned to her and shook his head.
Marmie stood a little taller and set her jaw. “Not three, she can shape four. Show them, Talise. Do the snake like you did on the boat.”
Talise was back to pinching the folds of fabric in her dress. The guard was astonished? Not angry? Maybe he was still both, but the astonishment seemed to be winning at the moment. Would shaping something fancy get her into more trouble?
Marmie gave her a gentle nod, and the lines around her eyes softened to the face Talise knew.
With a gulp, Talise moved her hand toward the pile of dirt in the center of the floor. She pulled in her stomach muscles and tried to work past the anxiety threatening to smother her. As the little snake started to take shape, the woman guard took a step forward with eyes full of wonder.
“Of course she will have place at the academy,” the first guard said as he touched the burnt hem of his tunic. “I’ve never seen a child with such advanced shaping.”
The woman guard brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “She shouldn’t train
at any of the academies in the Gate. She should go straight to the elite academy in the Crown.”
Marmie gave a smug grin, but Talise’s insides were bubbling over with excitement. “If I train there, will I finish sooner?” she asked.
“No,” the first guard said as he opened his writing pad. “Training always takes ten years, but it will be more advanced at the elite academy. I’ll have to write a special recommendation for you, but you should get in with no problem.”
That wasn’t exactly the news she wanted to hear, but it didn’t take away any of her excitement. She did it. She was going to the academy.
“Say your goodbyes,” the guard said, his eyes still on his writing pad. And with those words, all the excitement was sucked up and out of her body, leaving nothing but a pit in her stomach.
Marmie brushed the hair out of Talise’s face as she set the strap of the tote bag on her shoulder. “Work hard,” Marmie said.
“I’ll write to you.” Talise’s lip quivered. “Every week.”
Marmie brushed her thumb under Talise’s chin, giving her a smile. “And I’ll write to you. Twice a week.”
“What if I forget your face?” Talise bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering again. She knew she had to go to the academy. She knew she needed it. But why did it have to mean leaving Marmie? Why couldn’t they go together?
“You’ll never forget my face as long as you love me,” Marmie said with a laugh.
“But what if I do?”
Marmie bent down to leave a soft kiss on Talise’s cheek. With her head still bent, she whispered into Talise’s ear. “You must try. You must promise that you’ll do your best to become Master Shaper. You can’t entertain any thoughts of rejoining me in the Storm.”
It pained her more than anything else that day, but Talise knew what she had to say. She put both her hands on Marmie’s cheeks and said, “I will try. In ten years, I’ll be the best shaper Kamdaria has ever known.”